kapachino

Tag: David

  • A Competitive Sport

    Over the weekend David and I found ourselves discussing our respective domestic chores. Since we were left with nothing but applesauce, hummus, and pickles in our fridge, it was time to go shopping. After a brief discussion about what we needed David said to me, “You’ve let us run out of some things lately.”

    Feeling an assault on my wifely skills, I immediately responded on the offensive. “Who do you think cleans the house and does your laundry? Who is planning this week’s meals and is going shopping?”

    He came right back with, “Who cleaned the floors the other day? And you may go on a big shopping trip once every two weeks, but I buy a lot of little things that we need in between.”

    Realizing that the direction the conversation was headed wasn’t ideal, I swallowed my pride and said, “It’s not about who does what. We’re a team, love.”

    He responded, “And I just want to make sure you know I’m the better teammate.”

    IT’S ON.

  • Birthday Week Begins

    Much to my husband’s chagrin, I insist on celebrating my birthday for an entire week every year. The first couple of times he thought it was cute, but when I reminded him of it this year he said, “You’re still doing that??” Yes, yes I am. And it started yesterday. The boy’s not stupid though; he presented me with these first thing this morning:

    IMG_0162

    Pretty flowers make me happy.

    So the basics of birthday week are that I get to indulge in whatever I want all week long without feeling guilty, and I get to choose whatever activities I want for the week and David must comply. Genius, right? I know I’ll probably gain about ten pounds, but it’s so worth it. My actual birthday is on Friday, and there will be a wild party at my parents’ house. A wild party that will end by 9 p.m. and involves only my family and zero alcohol, but wild nonetheless.

    Happy Monday, and happy birthday week to me. :)

  • Yesterday Was Depressing, And I’m Not Talking About the UT Game

    Yesterday was my amazing husband’s birthday, and I wanted to make it a happy one for him even though I had to work 12 hours and we aren’t “celebrating” until tonight. I woke up in a great mood, decorated a bit, left his personal gift from me out for him to find when he woke up, and headed to work. He loved the gift and had a great day at work. I was trying to keep in touch with him and be extremely positive, but around noon some things started happening that made it hard for me to do that.

    I could draw these stories out and make you cry, because I certainly did, but I don’t want to be gratuitous. So I’ll just tell you in brief. First, I spent almost three hours literally standing at the bedside of a patient with her family, giving medications to keep her comfortable as we watched her die, explaining the process to them as it happened in front of our eyes. Afterwards it was my job to spend some one-on-one time with the body removing the invasive equipment and preparing it to be picked up.

    Not thirty minutes after that was taken care of, before I really had any time to mentally process it, the code blue alarm went off. This doesn’t happen often on our unit because patients are usually made DNR by the time their disease gets extremely serious. But for the past year we have been taking care of a 24-year-old girl who was pregnant when she found out she had an inoperable tumor wrapped around her heart. Our unit kind of adopted her, and when her baby was born via C-section at 23 weeks we gave her a baby shower. She’s from New Mexico so she didn’t have any supplies here in Houston at the apartment she’d been renting. I’ve had her picture on my refrigerator for months so I’d remember to pray for her and her family.

    Yesterday when the code alarm went off it was because her heart stopped pumping and she stopped responding. Unfortunately, her mother wasn’t in the room at the time so we were forced to do all we could to bring her back. If you have never witnessed a scene such as this in real life, you are blessed. There is no thought of modesty as the clothes are ripped off in order to do CPR and defibrillation. The room is swarming with people while the patient is intubated, chest pounded, and stuck with needles. I was one of the first ones there so I ended up being the one pushing medications, applying the heart paddles, and when her IV needle pulled out I had to insert a new one as fast as possible.

    We finally got in touch with her mother after almost thirty minutes of CPR with no response at all from the patient, and her mother told us not to continue. She was gone. We quickly cleaned her, removed the tubes and wires, and closed her eyes. Then we went outside and took turns hugging her mother and crying with her. I couldn’t cry long though, because my other patients needed me, and they needed me to be happy as usual, as if nothing had happened.

    An hour later I was on my way home to watch UT lose. I wish they would have won, mostly because it meant a lot to my husband, but after the day I had it didn’t seem as important as it had that morning.

    I didn’t intend to write this much, but I guess I just needed to get it out. Nurses grieve for their patients, and this is part of me moving on. I hope I can put it away for the rest of the day and give my husband the birthday celebration that he deserves.

  • The Day After

    I woke up at 9:30 a.m. today, and that is approximately eleven hours of glorious sleep. The only reason I even left the bed was because my husband got up, and I couldn’t bear the cold room without his warm body next to me. I have mentioned that I have refused to turn the heat on in the house, right? But did I also say that my husband still insists on turning the fan on full blast at night? Waking up is a beast.

    So after a hot shower I promptly planted myself in our recliner by the fire, underneath a blanket, and commenced reading. Four days ago I realized that the library book I checked out for book club, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, was due in two days and I had barely even begun. It’s not up for renewal since there is a waiting list, and I want to minimize my fines. I spent the next few hours finishing the book, which was quite good, but by the end my nose and fingers were too cold for comfort.

    I steeled myself and marched out to the garage, where David was busily cleaning his truck. I announced my presence and stated, “I came to tell you that I think it’s time we turn the heat on inside.” I expected cheers, hugs, and falling at my feet. He had, after all, been asking to turn the heat on for the past two weeks. Instead, I got an adamant “NO!” Not quite what I had in mind.

    I argued that today was the first time I’d been home all day and just could not get warm. I promised that we’d still sleep close at night. I rationalized that we’d have to turn it on eventually. But apparently my principles have rubbed off on him these past weeks, and he told me to suck it up, put on more clothes, and move around to get warm.

    Back inside, grumpy yet strangely proud, I put on another sweater and decided to take on a cooking project to raise my body temperature. Since we already had dinner plans, I figured I’d prepare a slow cooker meal that I could turn on the next morning before work and that way we’d have a hot meal when I get home tomorrow night. So I started working on this beef stew, which I had been planning to try soon anyway. Only problem was I didn’t realize how long it would take, and in the middle of it I discovered I didn’t have time to finish before we had to leave. Into the refrigerator it all went, and the meal will just have to be postponed another day.

    We went to our dinner exchange meal at Scott and Vanessa’s, and this time David’s best friend, his wife, and their two children came too. I’m afraid I wasn’t much company in that I started getting sleepy around 6:30 p.m. and barely rubbed two words together the entire evening. But I did quite enjoy watching my husband interact with 7-year-old Gwen and 4-year-old Jacob. They made up a game called “Nice To Meet You” in which they shook hands and took turns saying, “Nice to meet you ________.” Any word could go in the blank, any word at all. The only rule was you couldn’t duplicate. You can imagine how long this could last, and it did. At least 30 minutes straight. I’m not sure who had more fun, the kids or David. One thing is for sure, I can’t wait to make him a dad.

    Sadly, I have to work again this weekend. I would much rather be braving the chilly air at home with my husband, even if it meant frozen fingers and noses.

  • Fantasy, Science Fiction, Edward Cullen, and Why I Love Them

    Last night David was browsing the Internet, and he (don’t ask me how) ended up on a YouTube video about the best Sith Lords. Don’t bother watching it though, because it’s just a few pictures of Dark Nihilus and Dark Revan set to four minutes of music, asking you to comment with your favorite Siths. (And we’re talking Star Wars here, just to be clear.)

    David was fascinated. He started reading the comments and quoting them to me. Example:

    Nihilus hands down. Revan had powerful control of the Force but he also had a massive military at his side for his conquests. Vader is a pawn of the Emperor and has no real control but is still strong. The rest have real strengths and positive features but Nihilus has absolute power of the force so much that he doesn’t need a large army for defense. Also he can kill all life on a planet without any real effort, something I’ve never seen another Sith Lord do. Death Star doesn’t count.

    He couldn’t believe how people devote themselves to a world that isn’t real, in his opinion “throwing their lives away.” He went on and on about how ridiculous it is. My response?

    It makes me want to watch Star Wars again.

    David stared at me open-mouthed. Finally he ran his hands through his hair and said, “I don’t know how we ended up married.”

    Of course he was kidding about that last comment, but the point is that we are very different in many ways, and this is one of them. David has no tolerance for fantasy and science fiction, and I consider them two of my favorite genres. He doesn’t understand that just because I enjoy losing myself in another world it doesn’t mean that I’m dissatisfied with my own real life. I love my life.

    But fantasy gets me dreaming. It gets me longing for something more. I believe in God, in heaven, and in everything that comes with that, and I think C.S. Lewis described it best in my favorite sermon of all time when he said “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” Additionally, so many themes in fantasy and sci-fi echo the ultimate struggle between good and evil, and look forward to the day when everything will be made right.

    My pastor and I recently got into a discussion about the Twilight series, which I am proud to say I let him borrow my copies of, and he gave me his take on why the books are so popular. He said that usually when he reads anything having to do with romance, he naturally relates to the man, being himself a man. But in this case, he found himself relating to Bella, the awkward and flawed girl. (Hopefully he’s okay with me writing this, and if not…eh.) Edward is supernatural, he is powerful, beautiful, almost too good to be true, he is fiercely protective and loves unconditionally. He is not meant to be a symbol of God, and some would vehemently argue against this, but I think the reason the books are so popular (because come on, they’re not that well-written) is because we humans were created first and foremost to be loved by God, and Edward displays many of the characteristics that we long for.

    You won’t find me at any Star Wars conventions in the near future (because I, too, believe there is a line that probably shouldn’t be crossed), but you will certainly see me at a showing of New Moon. And now you know why.